I have many theories, none of which are based on any intellect, research or proven theory, merely observation and obscure analogies. I have the Bath Theory – reading a good book is like taking a bath, you avoid getting into it because of the time and effort associated with it, but once you’re in you think “I should do this more often”. Then there is the Quiche Theory – personal trainers are like quiche, 90% of them a shit but the other 10% are amazing, there is no in between.

Now, to my Friends Are Like Shoes Theory. In your 20s when life is busier than the days of bumming around with your friends all day like we did at uni or high school and our individual friendships are strengthened because three-way phone calls are so 1990s. You begin to realise your friends bring something different to the table and that is why you love them. I think the sooner people realise and celebrate these differences, the happier and less disappointed they will be.

What am I talking about ? Well it can be summed up like this – I wouldn’t wear my studded stilettos to go for a soft sand sprint, firstly because that is completely impractical and secondly, I don’t sprint in soft sand. Let me explain my theory by telling you a story…..

My sensitive soul of a friend called the other day, lets call her Jane. She called me because she was upset because her friend, let’s call her Lucy, showed a lack of empathy or understanding when she was pouring her heart out about her family problems. Sad? Yes. Surprising? No. Lucy is the type of girl who will be too busy looking over your shoulder to find cute boys and counting the calories in her small serving of salad to notice the broken hearted friend in her foreground. Is she the type of girl you want to discuss anything other than boys with? No, absolutely not. Is she the type of girl you want to be with if you want to go out and pick up boys? Bingo!

There are two issues at play here – Lucy is being an insensitive cow and Jane is setting herself up for disappointment. You need to figure out why you are friends with your friends and celebrate them accordingly. Would any of my friends call me if they want someone to join them for a mani/pedi while discussing the benefits of hydrating eye cream and low calorie diets? No. Why? Because I would have nothing to add to such a conversation, nor would I put any illegal Vietnamese immigrate though the torture of touching my ugly, ungroomed feet. On the other hand, if my friend wanted to go out for a bowl of nachos and watch gymnastic fails on YouTube, I have a feeling they would call me.

So, my advice – if you want a crazy night out on the town, call your party animal friend who will stay out on the d-floor with you all night. If you need advice about a boy, perhaps call the friend who has been successful in getting, and most of all keeping guys. If you’re in need of career advice, catch up with the friend who has is climbing the career ladder faster than the rest of your friends. If your dysfunctional family is driving you nuts, contact the friend who understands what you’re going through. If you want to know how many spin classes you need to do to burn off two sushi rolls, call Lucy.